Kali
Overview An efreeti best known for slaying the Amaranthine emperor responsible for the final cleansing of the Direwood, Kali's name has long since been lost to the ages. The stories of the war between men and elves scarcely recall the genie that campaigned alongside the emperor; however, it is well known that the once-white walls of the Amaranthine palace were blackened by hell fire some three-hundred years ago, and the offender herself is known only as Kingslayer. After the death of the emperor she vanished, and many attribute her disappearance to divine retribution. Early Life Kali was born a noble in the City of Brass, the capitol of the Fire Plane. There she honed her magic, shaping herself into a formidable sorceress. The Emperor's Crusade The Emperor of Amaranth Amalgamate was not alone in his quest against the dwindling elven population of Ehldehvar. Prior to his legion's final crusade, he attracted a beautiful efreeti who offered him her services. Kali became an integral cog in the emperor's war machine; it was through her extensive cosmic power that the god of the wood fell and the last of the Ehldehvar elves were extinguished. She fought on the front lines, channeling her wicked magics against those brave few who fought to their final breath. Kali reveled in the blood lust, and the emperor enjoyed the power that her devotion granted him. He grew overconfident, however, and began to indulge in affairs behind the back of his otherworldly lover. Eventually she found him out and, luring him into the bedchamber, bound him to a chair and set him ablaze. The same fire that slew the emperor spread through the palace, permanently blackening the stone of the north wing. Personal Account An excerpt from the personal account of Kali, salvaged from a violent blaze in Westport: From the first moment I Cassius, I wanted him. He was young for a man of power, a fact which only served to testify of his resolve. He played the game of politics as one might play a game of strategy—he pulled the strings of courtiers as though they were pawns, and through keen intellect and a ruthless determination, he rallied the people behind him and clawed his way to the throne. He was a man of iron will—he didn’t yield to petty emotions like affection and sympathy. That was what made me fall in love with him. I saw in him the very same traits which the efreet value most. I saw in him a man who was finally my match. I came to him first as a courtesan. Even disguised in human form, I was the fairest woman his court had ever seen. With my dance I seduced him, and only later when he summoned me to his bedchamber did I reveal my true self to him. I told him of my power, spoke of the things we could accomplish together. And like a moth to the flame, he was drawn to me. It was an alliance that would help shape the future of Centoros. He concocted a brilliant machination to unify the people of the kingdom against the common cause of the elves. Only through such a cause could he truly solidify his reign. So I helped him in his campaign. He exhausted great wealth on the wishes I was capable of granting, and with my powerful magic I personally marched among his armies to extinguish the elven blight. War, fire, and bloodshed—it was a glorious time, and occasionally I almost felt like I was home on the Fire Plane, walking among glass towers and rivers of molten metal in the floating City of Brass, under a sky of perpetual dusk. It made the bland Material Plane somehow more bearable. And I loved him. I served him for years. I devoted myself to him as a lover and a loyal ally to his cause. He became utterly indomitable—there was no power in the land that could possibly hope to stand against his armies, and he was too clever a politician to be outmaneuvered in court. I was content knowing his heart belonged to me. I guarded it jealously—I was sated only by the thought that a man so powerful and ruthless was mine, as I was his. Historians never seem to mention how very easy it is to kill a king. Cassius’ other mistresses were among the best kept secrets in the kingdom, else I might have known better than to invest myself so wholly in him. He knew that a string of women visiting his bed was enough of a crack in his power to be used against him—so he concealed them well. Only once did he slip up. She and I were invited to his chambers on the same evening, and she arrived first. When I came and found he was not alone, I spied on their affair. I listened to him profess his love to her in the very same words he had to me—and when she asked about his powerful mistress, I listened as he dismissed me as nothing more than a tool and a toy. I met with him the following evening. When we sat down to a private dinner, I bound him to his chair with my sorcery, and I set him on fire. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I disagree. I have to say, he pleased me even in death. Never once did he weaken or beg for his life. He remained strong, resolute, powerful, and I never loved him so much as the moment I watched the flames blacken his skin and listened to his agonized screams fill the castle. They tried to save him, of course. Guards came, then courtiers. They all died in a blazing inferno wrought by my hand. Azariah was angered by my slaughter. Before I could wreak further havoc, he imprisoned me in my bottle, then sent me to Westport, a city of water far removed from the elegant blaze of the Fire Plane. For three hundred years I lingered there, stewing in my own bloodlust and anger. In my youth, I had such dreams and ambitions. I had hoped to seize power in the Material Plane, shape the realm in the palm of my hand. After much contemplation, I have learned to let go of silly games. My life is much simpler now that I have one goal, and one alone. To watch the world burn. Category:Demons Category:People